


Retribution

by Acaranna



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Multi, Smut, het and slash with the latter implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acaranna/pseuds/Acaranna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irene helps Molly teach Sherlock a cerain much needed lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retribution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Barbayat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barbayat/gifts), [BotanyCameos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BotanyCameos/gifts).



> Well, this is it folks, my first post in Ao3. And it's smut. Along with het ... Who would have thought. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. This little gem was inspired by two lovely friends, Barbayat and BotanyCameos. It happened like always. We were talking and bam there's this little idea I wasn't expecting. Furthermore, English is not my native language though I find it easier to write in than my own. If you find any mistakes please let me know. Otherwise, enjoy.^^

The scene before him was delicious and extravagant. Sherlock sat in one of the wooden armchairs with a high backrest. His arms were bound behind it while his long legs were resting over the armrests. Thick, black cuffs were wrapped around slender ankles and a silver chain held them open and wide for the girl kneeling between them. Pale, blue eyes were hidden behind the scarf he used to wear while a bright pink ball-gag trapped every sound inside his mouth while stretching the sinful lips wide open. 

"It feels good, doesn't it?" the woman behind Sherlock asked and trailed a slim finger over his exposed chest before teasing one erect nipple. "So good and yet you can't enjoy it." Her voice was like dark velvet, covering the wet and slurping sounds that came from between Sherlock's legs. A brunette head was bobbing slowly up and down, taking the flushed cock deep before releasing it again. From the looks of it she had been going at it for a while. The red tip was angry looking and the few sounds that made it past the gag were pleading and helpless. 

"She's quite a lovely one," the woman continued conversationally while one hand ran through thick brown locks. "Eager to please you and how do you thank her for it?" The grip turned tight, making Sherlock keen and whimper. His hips began to buck closer to the young woman who merely pulled back off his cock and waited. A choked off sob and the trembling retreat back to the seat of the chair were her answer.

"That was naughty, Sherlock, wasn't it?" the woman asked again and smirked when her prey nodded with brightly flushed cheeks. It seemed that she had been saying that a lot for Sherlock to acknowledge it. "All she wants is to please you, to be seen by you. And yet you never really give her the pleasure of a true 'thank you'." Her voice turned sad and chastising at the same time. Sherlock's head hung in shame before flinging back again with a throaty groan.

"Ah, it seems she found your sweet spot, hasn't she?" this time her voice was tinkling like a bell and the smile was directed at the younger woman who had resumed her ministrations on his cock. She was taking him deep again, one hand rolling his balls, squeezing them hard whenever he got too close to orgasm while the other hand rested behind the orbs. One slender finger was buried in the tiny hole that always remained hidden from the world. She moved it slowly in and out, brushing the little gland inside with practiced ease causing pleasure to shoot through the man who was at her mercy.

"How many times has it been now?" the woman behind the chair asked again, while running her finger nails over the pale chest leaving pale pink welts behind. "Four, or five?"  
"Six, Mistress," came the answer in a rough voice from the brunette who had pulled her head back in order to reply.  
"Six times, already. My, you must be in pain by now, aren't you?" the answer was drowned in laughter and underlined by a pathetic mewl that left Sherlock's throat. Both women were chuckling now. “You see, this is what she felt whenever she tried to please you and never got a reward. It's so painfully unfullfilling, isn't it? You're so close, just a little more, just one more word and it never comes and you're all alone to take care of that need. And it never feels that fullfilling, does it?” 

Sherlock nodded meekly, his hips still bucking weakly even when the hot, wet mouth wasn't there anymore. His body was running on autopilot it seemed.  
“Now, I want you to thank dear Molly for teaching you that lesson,” the woman behind him said while she unbuckled the gag. “You will thank her and then you will ask her for permission to finish yourself off. After that you are free to go. Your Master is waiting already.” 

Sherlock's head surged up and turned automatically into the direction where he stood. It seemed that he had only now noticed it. Understandable as it was, it made him smile.  
“You heard her, Sherlock,” he said evenly. He could see the tremble even from the doorway and he smiled. He hoped that the lesson stuck this time. He certainly didn't want Molly to feel sad again. A 'Thank you' wasn't that hard, after all.  
“Thank you, Miss Molly,” Sherlock whispered, he wasn't able to do much more, not after spending five hours with a ballgag. “May I please finish myself off?”  
Molly looked at him, then over at her Mistress before her eyes settled on Sherlock's frame. Her lips were swollen, red and wet but they smiled and she reached out to ruffle the unruly locks.  
“You may, Sherlock.”  
He had to smile at that. Molly was such a good girl. Her heart was of gold and she would never really hold Sherlock's behaviour against him. But that didn't mean that he and Irene could let him treat her like that without doing something about it. And so he watched quietly as Sherlock wrapped a trembling hand around his cock, winced but started stroking himself. He came after three short strokes and slumped into the chair with a sob while his body spasmed in the aftereffects.

Shaking his head he went over and carefully undid the cuffs in order to take care of his Sub now.  
“Thank you, Irene,” he said and smiled. “He needed that. And thank you, too, Molly.”  
As expected, Molly blushed and Irene just grinned.  
“Don't mention it, John,” she said. “I did say that he would beg me twice. I never said that it would be understandable.”


End file.
